But shortly after the conclusion of the meal he contrived to come upon Betty outside the house.

She was hanging a dish towel from a line that stretched from a corner of the porch to the stable.
Looking at her as he approached, he was conscious that there was something more than rage in his heart against her for her duplicity; there was a gnawing disappointment and regret.

It was as though he was losing something he valued.

But he put this emotion away from him as he faced her.
"You're damn slick," he said; "slicker than I thought you was.

But I ain't lettin' you think that you're stringin' me like you thought you was." He put vicious and significant emphasis on the word, and when he saw her start he knew she divined that he had overheard the conversation between her and Taggart.
Her face flushed.